


It only gets stranger...

by Smoakin_dontburnyourself



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: M/M, Post-Canon, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-28
Updated: 2018-01-05
Packaged: 2019-02-07 21:14:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12849660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Smoakin_dontburnyourself/pseuds/Smoakin_dontburnyourself
Summary: In the aftermath of it all, Billy is awake, the demodog is out of the fridge, Steve is the best babysitter ever and in the Spring of 85’ the Upside Down finds its way back into Hawkins Indiana.Set after season 2





	1. The less I know, the better

**Author's Note:**

> Of course I'm so intrigued by Billy I just love a complex character, I'm really excited to see what they do with him next season
> 
> I know this storyline has been done (AMAZINGLY) in other fics though I hope to give mine a bit of a spin. Will be mostly Billy/Steve centered and the rating will most likely go up in future chapters 
> 
> All errors are mine

Steve is surprised to find the Byers house still standing as they pull back into the driveway. It's a relief to see that Billy hasn’t roused and worked himself into enough of a rage to burn the place to the ground.

 

Max, her red hair tucked carefully over her ears, is chewing on her thumbnail from the passenger seat, scowling down at it now and then. Dustin, in the back, stares blankly ahead while Mike and Lucas mutter quietly beside him

 

“You think he’s still in there?”

 

“Of course, Lucas, where would he be? we stole his car, remember?”

 

“We borrowed it”

 

“Yeah without his permission, genius”

 

“Max is a relative so it's not stealing, _genius_ ”

 

“ _So_? When a dad takes a kid without permission, it’s still kidnapping”

 

“We did not _kidnap_ a _car_ ”

 

“It's a metaphor!”

 

Steve kills the engine and shuts off the headlights and it's enough to send the kids into uncharacteristic silence.They pile out of the Camaro in the same silence and huddle together in the darkness. For the first time in weeks, they actually look like kids. With no Demogorgons left to fight and no mind flayer left to outsmart, the awkwardness of pre-teendom finally begins to rear its hormonal head.

 

Steve looks down at the pile of losers with a fondness that a couple years ago, he wouldn’t have thought he had in him. His jaw still hurts like a bitch, his eye is swollen entirely shut, and he’s almost positive his nose is broken in at least one place. Still, he pulls his bat from the trunk and grips it tight, ready to keep his promise, even if it kills him. Which, he considers, has become more and more feasible with every ludicrous plan he somehow gets roped into.

 

From beside him, hands stuffed purposely in her green jacket, Max mutters “He’s gunna be mad”

 

Steve scoffs because, _yeah_ , understatement of the year

 

Max almost tells him that she doesn’t mean Billy but then they’re upon the porch and Steve is shoving them backwards with outstretched arms

 

“You losers stay behind me”

 

Max rolls her eyes, Mike and Lucas nod, and Dustin, from his place at the back pipes up with

 

“Famous last words”

 

Steve figures he’s too concussed to think about the potential repercussions of a round two with Billy Hargrove because then he’s bursting through the door, bat swinging and battle cry ripping through the otherwise quiet living room. The scene that greets him is unexpected enough to make him stagger backwards, scattering the kids like bowling pins. Steve lowers his bat slowly and he feels four sets of eyes peering over him at where Billy has apparently gone through the trouble of taking down every piece of scribbled paper that once mapped the city of Hawkins on the walls. The demodog has, unsurprisingly, fallen out of the fridge, along with a bottle of ketchup and a jar of pickles. The door is still swung open and the room is cold, like maybe it’s been that way for a while.  

 

The demodog lies in a puddle across the kitchen floor, sprawled out in all its slimy glory.

 

Billy is sitting on the edge of the sunken couch surrounded by a cloud of smoke. He doesn’t look away from the monster even once they all step over the threshold. Steve understands what it must feel like, to suddenly know, to be in the wrong place at the right time and then _know_. That had been him once upon a time and he’s still working on coming to terms with it all.

 

“He cleans when he’s stressed” Max mutters as a half hearted explanation and that's enough to break whatever spell had befallen Billy

 

His eyes snap away from the heap of petals and teeth and he meets Steve’s careful gaze. In his eyes Steve finds guilt, like maybe he thinks he should have figured it out sooner. He sees other things too, one of which he realizes might just be fear. It's strange to see a measure of vulnerability in Billy’s eyes,like perhaps there's a sentient semi-decent human being buried somewhere beneath the smoke and the fast cars, though Steve figures stranger things have happened in the small town of Hawkins Indiana.

 

“Listen man-”

 

Billy shakes his head and drags himself off the floppy cushions of the couch, he gets close enough that Steve thinks he might hit him again but instead only bumps his shoulder as he walks by. The motion is enough to remind Steve that his ribcage might be bruised

 

“Save it Harrington, the less I know the better”

 

Without another word Billy walks towards Max and sticks out his hand. She meets his gaze with a newfound confidence that can only come after threatening to smash someone's balls in with a nail studded bat. Still, she digs into her pocket to fish out the car keys. With a tired hand, Billy grips her upper arm and she lets herself be steered towards the door. There's no violence in his action but Steve tenses up just the same. Max looks over her shoulder at where they all stand in a formation of worried eyes, hands covering yawns, and small little waves. She smiles a tiny smile back at them and before they’re completely out of earshot Steve hears her say

 

“He’s gunna be mad”  

 

In the distance, a small stale voice answers “I _know_ , Max”

 

Steve is too exhausted to wonder what they mean and his face hurts too much for him to think very coherently anyways. He turns back towards the kids to find Lucas sat on the couch only half awake, Mike waiting by the window, and Dustin crouched down inspecting the remains of the demodog’s decaying corpse. Dustin feels his gaze and looks up at him giving him a thumbs up and grinning despite it all.   

 

“You’re still gunna explain that shit to Mrs. Byers, dickhead”

 


	2. Something strange

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The demodog is gone, Steve is girlfriend-less, and Dustin cons someone out of the Harrington's phone number

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The time frame is a little compressed, sorry if that drives anyone crazy. More to come! (after my finals week lol)

As it were, the demodog isn’t donated to science.

 

Instead, on the following day, dragged out from the Byers household by a slimy paw, it is unceremoniously incinerated along with the heaps of rotten pumpkins that had come to give Hawkins a sort of eerie kind of smell. The owner of said pumpkins, Merrill, regards the scene with only mild interest, clapping Hopper on the shoulder on his way back to doing whatever pumpkin patch farmers do on their off season, “Do what you gotta do, Chief” he says, somehow already used to not asking questions he doesn't want to know the answers to.

 

Dustin insists it's only decent that they go pay their respects, so on a sleepy sunday morning, Steve rolls out of bed at a disgustingly early hour of the morning, early enough to catch the sun peaking over the horizon.

 

Hopper sets the pile aflame with a half smoked cigarette, muttering “good riddance” under his breath and watching it burn for a moment from under his hat. He crams his gloved hands into his sheriff's jacket and stalks away, though not before pausing to ruffle Dustin’s hair through his snapback. The gesture says _You did good kid_ , and it's enough to put a smile on Dustin’s face. Hopper’s never been a man for prose after all, so Steve figures it's the best they’re going to get.

 

Dustin and Steve watch the flames rise and fall in comfortable silence, shifting weight from foot to foot and leaning slightly into the heat, if only to fend off the early morning chill.

 

“I can’t believe they’re not here to see this” Dustin says, breaking the silence and throwing his hands up at the landscape. Bleak as it may be, he thinks of dart, his love for nougat, and how such an unsuspecting creature could meet such a violent death.     

 

Steve, on his end, lets out an amused breath “Yeah, I think you and I are the only ones not grounded for life little man”

 

Dustin sighs but agrees, only looking back at the flames once on the walk back to Steve’s BMW

 

.

.

.

.

  


Like a phantom limb, Steve feels the heat of those flames even once they’re long gone. They drive away mostly in silence, save a comment or two on Dustin’s end.

 

_Your face looks like shit_

 

to which he says

 

_I know, man, it’s my face_

 

and

 

_You still have that bat right? Just in case_

 

at which Steve hums

 

_Yeah, just in case_

  


.

.

.

.

  


The next day, amidst the bustle of the parking lot, Nancy breaks up with Steve, _officially._

 

It's more of a formality than an actual surprise and he cuts her short with a sad smile and a wave of his hand “I get it, Nancy” He almost wishes he didn’t, but it all just makes perfect sense.

 

Turns out getting told _I do love you Steve, just not in that way_ is pretty exhausting because Steve drags his feet for the rest of the week. And the week after that, and then the week after that.

 

The weeks blur together and then a month has gone by.

 

On a friday in the first week of December Steve’s phone rings, startling the silence of his empty house. His parents are out of town, he’s pretty sure there's a party raging on somewhere, and he really needs to finish his english assignment, which is exactly what he’s in the middle of when the phone goes off. The rings echo until he makes it down the stairs, sliding a bit on his socks in his haste but catching himself in time before toppling over. He picks the phone up hesitantly, not discounting mormons or a drunk asshole on a dare

 

“Hello?”

 

On the other end, a pre-pubescent voice greets him enthusiastically enough for him to have to pull the phone from his ear

 

He recognizes the voice almost instantly “ _Henderson_?”

 

Immediately, Steve assumes the worst, of course, and promptly begins to freak out. Why else would he be calling? They haven’t really spoken in awhile, not since that day at the pumpkin patch and a couple times they’d crossed paths at the parking lot, or the dinner, small town and all.

 

Shit hit the fan, it's the only explanation and it sends Steve into a frenzy of heavy breathing. He’s really only half listening to what Dustin is saying. His heart is racing, he thinks maybe he’s having a stroke

 

_of course it's not over, it's not that easy, it's never that easy. Shit, didn’t the other kid close the damn portal or something? Wasn’t that supposed to fix it?_

 

He’s wracking his brain on the whereabouts of his bat when he catches the end of what Dustin is going on about

 

“-I mean, since you said you weren’t going to volunteer, I thought that maybe you could drive me? I'd rather not spend fifteen minutes in the Wheeler van, Mike’s mom has this weird tendency to take like a million pictures. I know it sounds sweet but it's _weird_ ”

 

a pause

 

and then

 

“Wait _what_?”

 

“Huh?”

 

“Did you just say-?”

 

From the other end, Dustin scratches his head through his hat “If you could drive me. You know, to the Snowball. Its, uh, next weekend and since you said-”

 

“So..Wait” Steve interrupts, flailing around his kitchen, trying to wrap his head around what exactly it is that he just heard “let me get this straight. You called me to give you a ride to a middle school dance and not about….you know….the other stuff?”   

 

“uh, yes, right”

 

Another pause

 

“ _Riiight_ , and how did you get my number again?”

 

.

.

.

.

  


“I dunno If you know this or not, Harrington, but it's sorta pervy to be hanging out, alone, outside of a middle school dance, in the middle of the night”

 

Billy’s leaning on the hood of his car, having more or less snuck up on Steve, who seems to be completely lost in his own thoughts. Fleetingly, Billy wonders what eats at the golden boy of Hawkins Indiana, but the thought comes and goes before he can really make anything of it.

 

The snowball rages on inside the gym, encompassing anything within a five mile radius in a blanket of pop music and un-spiked punch. The Police plays, muffled by the walls of the school and the chatter of a space full of pre-teens. Billy, from his spot, looks more interested in lighting a cigarette than anything and as always, Steve notes, he doesn’t look nearly as cold as he should be. After a couple tries, he gets it to take the flame, sucks a long drag, and then blows it out slowly.

 

It's the first time they’ve so much as made eye contact since the night at the Byers’, and it feels almost unnatural to acknowledge each other's existence all the sudden. Steve's face is mostly healed but it stings from the cold and from the natural inclination of violence that Billy emits into the air.  

 

Steve snorts after a moment “Says literally the only other guy standing outside a middle school dance in the middle of the night”

 

Billy makes a face but says nothing else, mostly because he’s right.

 

Steve looks over towards where he stands, pushing and pulling his cigarette from his face, tapping his foot of the asphalt now and again, and looking around one too many times for it to be considered normal. There's a sort of twitchy quality to his movements, an energy that looms under the surface, like maybe something's been chaffing him enough to keep him up at night. He knows the feeling, though he doubts he’ll be bonding over it with Billy Hargrove any time soon.  

 

Before anything else can be said, the kids are bouncing out of the gym, pink cheeks, excited conversation, and small hugs goodbye.

.

.

.

.

 

That night, amidst the chatter and the laughter, something sinister looms over Hawkins. It watches the kids through the cloudy glass of another dimension, feeding itself on their audacity to hope, to live. It sees what it's up against, it’s felt the power that lives in the midst of the weakness, it _knows_ that power. The air grows heavy with the stench of _it's not over, how could it be over?_

 

Unabatingly, something strange waits for its turn to come again  


	3. good guys and monsters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jane sees the Mind Flayer and it see’s her.

“Heads up, Harrington!”

 

He's not really paying attention, nursing his beer and minding his business when a basketball, thrown from one side of the room to the other, very nearly misses his head. Steve looks up in time to find a group of very intoxicated basketball players dissolving into a graceless fit of drunken laughter. Steve makes a face and Nancy, who’d gravitated to the punch, now back at his side, sends them a glare that moves them along. Beside them, the ball’s trajectory finds its end at a nearby coffee table, which topples over, expensive looking vase and all.

 

Somewhere from inside the house, at the sound of an expensive family relic cracking, its owner squeals “ _Watch it shitheads! My parents will be back tomorrow night_!”

 

The music is loud and the packed bodies are suffocating but, as Nancy had put it, they both _really_ need a drink. Jonathan has a shift at work, his parents are out of town, and they get word of a houseparty somewhat advertised from the top of a table during lunch.They wander in almost out of habit and people, apparently over whatever novelty they had been, barely bat an eye at them.

 

They walk in side by side, shoulders brushing, and Steve can’t help but think that It's kind of odd to do the things they used to do when they were together. It's been months though and, if Steve is honest with himself, Nancy is the only real friend he’s ever had. He knows he’d been a shitty boyfriend and an idiot to think that it would all go away after Barb, that they’d move on, get married or some shit. He’d tried to pull her down into the mind numbing routine of american teendom, of what they were supposed to do, supposed to feel, they’re just teenagers after all.

 

Forget it, go to the right parties, laugh at all the jokes, maybe then it’ll all just… go away.

 

It didn't, and Nancy, strong willed and resilient as she is, was apparently not as eager to live out a lie. He can’t blame her, not really anyways, not when she’s the only one who ever asks him how he’s doing. _We’ll always be friends, Steve, no matter what_. He’s thankful for that at least.

 

From the other side of the living room the crowd of ‘popular’ kids laugh and howl over something that's almost definitely some degree of moronic. Billy Hargrove is in the middle of it all, laughing along, soaking in the esteem that comes from ‘running the school’. Steve, from his spot, can’t help but stare at the scene, so familiar yet so distant that it seems like that might have been him several lifetimes ago.

 

Beside him, tracing his stare, Nancy takes a swing of her cup and says “Do you wish you could go back?” it's a loaded question and it takes him a moment to understand what she means.

 

Steve shrugs and blinks a few times before finally tearing his gaze away. Perhaps he wishes he could go back to the relative peace of not knowing, of dousing in the simplicity of appearances and popularity. He tried that before but, this time, it's not so easy to forget. They came too close to even pretend that it was all a dream. He knows what's out there trying to claw its way in, he knows how close it’s come to winning and laughing along with the drunk kids of the ‘in-crowd’ isn’t going to make that go away. He dwells on the thought for a moment before deciding to change the subject entirely.

 

.

.

.

.

 

Down a couple streets and past a stretch of woods in a more inconspicuous part of Hawkins, Jane Hopper lies awake with her eyes closed.

 

The sounds of the outside world play like a soundtrack to her thoughts. The heartbeat of the world grounds her as her inner monologue threatens to consume her. Her hair, longer now, prickles at her neck where it curls into her skin.

 

She thinks of Kali and the rage that lives in the steadiness of her stare. _We belong together. There’s nothing there for you, they can’t save you_

 

She thinks of Mike and the fervor with which he tells her sometimes that they are the good guys, she wonders if she was always meant to be a ‘good guy’ though she figures she knows that she wasn’t. _You’re not a monster_

 

She thinks of Hopper and Mama and the daughter that they each lost. She thinks that she’ll never be that piece of them that’s missing.

 

It plays in a loop in her head Kali, Mike, Hopper, Mama. _It’s her fault, she caused it,_ she can’t help but to think that she did. From amidst the darkness of another night trapped, the shadows watch her breathe in and out, they watch as she tries to quell her thoughts enough to fall asleep

 

She can’t. She’s trapped behind the blackness of her closed eyes

 

it reaches out to touch her with a measured hand. It holds on to her until she feels like it might never let go  

 

_What do you want! What do you want!_ She wants to scream, but instead, in a familiar place, she stands paralyzed, face to face with the monster she’d thought they’d defeated

 

_Tick Tock Tick Tock,_

 

the clock in her room continues, keeping the rhythm of time as it caves in around her. The sounds of outside continue too, the leaves tumble around with the breeze of a late night in March.

 

The air is heavy in her lungs, it burns like perhaps it's not the kind that she needs

 

Jane sees the Mind Flayer and it see’s her.

 

It regards Jane with strange morbid curiosity. She can feel the vibrations of its wanting, of the rage that hides behind the shadows. It blinks in time with her own frightened stare, once, twice, three times. It moves with her, like a distorted reflection. She wants to scream, she wants to run, but she can’t, she’s stuck under the glare of a monster that knows what she is.

 

It’s stronger this time

 

Before the dread can seep fully through her skin she comes back with a jolt and a gasp that’s lost in the darkness of her room.

.

.

.

.

 

Steve and Nancy drink until Jonathan shows up, hands stuffed uncomfortably in the pockets of his jeans, looking as out of place as he probably feels amidst the music and the alcohol. He nods at Nancy from his spot at the doorway, as if stepping further over the threshold would cause him physical pain. He spots Steve after a moment and smiles his lopsided grin. Steve lifts a hand in greeting and nods when Nancy tells him she has to go.

 

“You wanna ride?” Steve shakes his head

 

“I’m gunna hang here a little longer, I have my car” he says over the noise

 

She nods and with a last squeeze to his hand she makes her way over to Jonathan, attaching herself to his elbow the way that couples do.  

 

Steve watches after them long enough to risk being creepy before turning on his heel and venturing into the kitchen in search for more beer. He finds a six pack that's only missing one can in the fridge, he looks around before taking it and peels off to the back of the house in search for a relatively quiet place to drink. It’s been awhile since he’s drank enough to sleep soundly and he figures tonight is as good of a night as any. He finds himself looking forward to it as he picks a spot outside on the lawn.

 

Steve spends a couple quiet moments in the hands of the late night breeze before he hears him, way before he actually sees him

 

“You and the Byer’s freak passing Wheeler around now or what?”

 

Billy is surprisingly sober and plops himself down next to Steve, immediately patting himself down for his trusty pack of cigarettes. When he finds them in his breast pocket, he pulls one out and lights it

 

“Fuck off Hargrove” Steve tries, staring straight ahead into the vibrating house

 

Billy, completely undeterred by Steve's attempt at hostility nods like he’s conceding a point

 

“I mean, it is the obvious solution to the weird triangle you got goin’ on” he pulls the cigarette to his mouth and takes a long drag “though, I never pegged you as the type to share” Billy shrugs, as if accepting he’d been wrong

 

Steve, from his spot, sighs and takes another swing at his beer “We’re friends, asshole”

 

Billy shrugs again like maybe he doesn’t really care.

 

It's quiet enough for a moment that Steve almost forgets that Billy is there. Just the faint noise of pop music and teenage laughter until Billy speaks again in a low voice that is quiet enough to almost miss, like perhaps he's trying to build himself up to saying what he wants to say

 

“Max hasn’t slept a whole night through in months” he says in a breath and then glances at Steve  “”looks like neither have you, Harrington” it's an observation that Steve would resent if he weren't so damn tired all the time. He looks down at his beer and can't find the will to argue the point. Instead, he waits for Billy to continue on to the point that he hopes is coming some time soon

 

Billy’s hands have a slight tremble to them as he smokes, the same barely contained energy that he’d seen before that shows that maybe Billy’s been stewing on what he saw that day at the Byers house more than he lets on

 

“Nightmares or some shit” Billy continues on “Screams sometimes” he shrugs off, letting the rest of the sentence die off. Steve, from beside him, watches almost mesmerized at what, he’s pretty sure, is Billy Hargrove attempting to ask for help. Not that he'll be much help. If he knew how to ward off the nightmares, he would have done it a long time ago.

 

When Steve says nothing, still recovering from witnessing something other than general assholery coming from Billy Hargrove, said boy shifts uncomfortably, chaffed by vulnerability, focusing mostly on putting out his cigarette with the toe of his boot.  

 

“Look, Harrington” he says finally, sounding annoyed  “Like I said before, the less I know the better. I want no part in whatever nerdy shit you and those kids are mixed in-”

“Just give her some space, man” Steve says, interrupting whatever it was that he was going to say but not really mean “That kid’s been through some serious shit”

 

Steve doesn’t miss how his face flickers at the statement. He almost thinks that Billy will ask and he thinks that if he does, he'll tell him. But he doesn't, he swallows it and punctuates their conversation with a stiff nod. 

 

They don’t say much more and they break off soon after, Billy drifting back into the party and Steve making his way to the door. On his way out, Steve spots Billy in the midst of laughter and music. He glances only for a moment and the two gazes miss each other by only a fraction of a second. Billy looks after Steve’s retreating form, his skin itchy with not knowing.


	4. Something Much Worse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is kind of plot heavy, sorry. I'm hoping the story picks up after this chapter especially with Billy and Steve, I've got a lot of Ideas but mostly I'm writing as I go
> 
>  
> 
> Anyways, please leave me your thoughts/ideas/criticism on the plot and stuff I'd love to know what you think!

In a secluded somewhere tucked amidst the humid air of California, a familiar face, cut with the passing of time and wrinkled with annoyance, waits silently in a room lit only with a lamp that hangs overhead. It’s not a long wait before the door of the small space opens and then closes, revealing a small man clad in a dark suit and a formal hat that might have been better suited a couple decades earlier. Martin Brenner recognizes the man at once and musters a nod in salute

 

“Brenner” Alexander Vince says in a terse sort of greeting. He lowers himself carefully in the only other seat in the room, adjusting the lapels of his coat before speaking again in a measured tone “I trust you have been successful in your  _ research _ ”  

 

Never one to dawdle, Vince makes no move to remove either his coat or his hat, a clear indication that he has no plans to stay or humor the doctor long enough for the extra clothing to grow heavy. 

 

With another stiff nod, Brenner leans forward with a neutral expression on his face “The energy on that creature is  _ extraordinary _ , pure, potent even on the dead tissue” He explains, getting straight to the point  “It could prove useful to the project, were it explored…...  _ thoroughly _ enough” 

 

The higher up lifts a bushy brow at the revelation and Brenner takes it as an invitation to continue 

 

“The test subjects are bonded to it…. It's a strange connection, not entirely understood-”

 

He hit a sour note judging by the darkness that clouds the CIA envoy’s sagging features. Escaped rogue test subjects marr Dr. Brenner reputation, one which he is aware precedes him amongst the CIA officials. Brenner bites back a flinch against the distaste on the older man’s face but If Vince doubts his capabilities, he does a good enough job in hiding it, narrowing his eyes in ultimatum “Well then, doctor” he says “Then I think you know exactly what needs to be done” straightening his jacket and as to not leave anything to assumption “ _ Find them _ ”

 

.

.

.

.

 

Apparently, Dustin getting ahold of Steve’s number opened him up for business as some kind of middle school advice hotline. This assumption based on the fact that Henderson  _ won’t stop calling him _

 

It had started innocently enough, a ride here and there, a call to see how things were going, and had somehow snowballed into a twenty minute conversation with the kid on whether to say  _ hey _ or  _ hi _ to some girl at school. This strange turn of events buggs Steve because for one, it's annoying, and also, he’s actually weirdly good at it and finds himself not particularly minding Dustin’s incessant calling all that much. Which is why when his phone rings as he gets home from school, still a bit hungover from the party, he’s already half expecting to hear Dustin’s voice on the other side of the line.

 

“Whataya want Henderson?” 

 

The response comes back muffled by another voice and an attempt to swat that voice away from the phone

 

_ “Will you idiots shut up? I’m on the phone!” _

 

Steve waits, rolls his eyes, runs a hand through his hair, and then waits some more until Dustin’s voice comes back to the receiver 

 

“Uh Steve? You there?” he asks and Steve is only a little annoyed “ _ Yes, _ I’m here”  

 

The call culminates with Steve pulling out of his driveway with Hawkins Middle as his destination. He arrives to the agreed spot with the tip of a box hanging out of the pocket of his jacket and his sunglasses still perched on the bridge of his nose. Steve looks around the empty hallway for anyone that might recognize him and, finding no one, he leans forward to rasp a knock on the door. 

 

The door swings open to reveal Max in all her bright haired glory, her green sweatshirt sags on one shoulder and she makes a face when she sees him “Steve Harrington?”

 

“Uh yeah” he says and a glance further into the room reveals the rest of the kids huddled around a table. They all look at him with the same puzzled look until one of them articulates their shared confusion 

 

“Why is Steve Harrington here?” Mike says, looking around until meeting Dustin’s guilty shrug 

 

Mike rolls his eyes “You called him” 

 

Dustin smirks in a way that looks more smug and not the least bit contrite “I may have, possibly, done something potentially somewhat similar to calling him…” 

 

And with that revelation, the room erupts into a loud chatter of “I _ told you it was a bad idea! _ ” “ _ why in the world would you call him? _ ”, “ _ he was helpful last time! _ ”,  and “ _ you might as well have called my mom! _ ” 

 

Steve has half a mind to be offended by the last one though instead of voicing any outrage he waves the noise away “Alright! Alright! I just need to borrow Dustin for a sec” he nearly shouts, looking closer at the room and seeing only vaguely recognizable electronic things  “I don’t even wanna know what this is about-” he says, gesturing to their little congregation 

 

“A.V club meeting” Dustin says with a grin

 

“Members only” Mike says through narrowed eyes 

 

“O….kay” Steve says and then points at Dustin “ _ You _ , come here” he gestures towards the door. Dustin stares at him blankly, looks behind his shoulder and then points at himself mouthing “ _ me? _ ”

 

Steve sighs and gestures more  vehemently

 

They stand around the corner and Steve pulls out the small cardboard box from his pocket, waving it in from of the younger kid’s face. He takes his sunglasses off in a swift motion, pinning Dustin with accusation “So I’m guessing this isn’t about a hairspray emergency”

 

Dustin grins, shakes his head, and then sobers, concern knitting his eyebrows together under his mop of hair 

 

“No” he says “It's something much worse” 

 

.

.

.

.

 

‘ _ Something much worse’ _ turns out to actually be something much worse.

 

Steve stands off to the side, arms crossed over his chest, listening silently as the kids continue to talk amongst themselves. Apparently not deeming his presence important enough to interrupt their meeting, Steve does his best to piece everything together. What he has so far is: 1. Eleven,  _ Jane _ , has a sister 2. The doctor that hurt them is alive 3. Jane’s sister is somehow communicating with her through her dreams (he doesn't quite get that one) 4. Whatever invaded Hawkins is hunting them ( he gets that one significantly less)

 

“There are portals still open, its the only way this is possible” 

 

“But I thought El closed it” 

 

“She closed  _ one _ ”

 

"how many are there?" 

 

"What does it want from them?"

 

"It must be connected to the lab"

 

"Well" Mike says, rising from his spot around the table “There's only one way to find out, we go back to the source of it all”

 

Steve figures this is as good as any spot to interrupt

 

“Woah woah  _ woah _ ” he flails, waving his hands and shaking his head at Mike’s suggestion that they go back down to Hawkin’s lab to investigate 

 

“Am I missing something here?” he says, looking around and finding the kid’s blinking at him in annoyance “or is this  _ definitely _ a job for the police? Why haven’t you dipshits called Hopper for christs sakes”

 

The kids all simultaneously roll their eyes at him

 

“And what exactly is Hopper going to do?” Mike asks, as if already knowing the answer

 

At that Steve blinks, pauses, shifts his weight, opens his mouth, closes it and then 

 

 

"Uhhh......enforce the law?” 

 

.

.

.

.

 

They end up piled up in Steve’s car because the promise to protect the idiots still echoes in his head. Lucky for them he hasn’t found the time to empty the trunk 

 

“In and out” he tells them sternly, eyeing them through the rearview mirror “we go in, we take a look, and then we’re out. Nobody gets hurt and you shitheads are home by dinner  _ capiche _ ?”  

 

The kids all nod in unison 

 

“Okay” Steve says, more to himself than to the band of middle schoolers in the back seat “Lets do this”  _ maybe then there will be some goddamn peace in this town _ , he doesn’t say that, It’s too optimistic for a moment like this   

 

The car pulls out of the school slowly as if measuring its movement. From the inside, consumed by their own thoughts and a ball of nerves in the pit of their stomachs, nobody notices the other car crawling behind them, following at a safe and steady distance.     


End file.
